


yuri on smirnoff ice

by tootsonnewts



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, for science, otabek is a college student, they got big ole crushes y'all, yuri is a bartender, yuri solves the tension with drinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 21:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11632353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tootsonnewts/pseuds/tootsonnewts
Summary: Okay, Yuri doesn’t consider himself to be a sneaky kind of guy. He’s impatient, a little brash, and definitely quick to unleash his salty mouth on anyone who crosses him, but he’s honest. If there’s something he’s thinking, he’ll say it. If there’s something he wants, he’ll go after it. He won’t pussyfoot around how he’s feeling, he’ll face it head-on and handle his business.Except, tonight, he kind of wants to run a little experiment. You know, for science.or, the fic where yuri is simultaneously the guy at the bar and the bartender.





	yuri on smirnoff ice

**Author's Note:**

> this one is based off of [this post](http://gutgemacht.tumblr.com/post/163492289218/a-bartender-au) by michaela on tumblr. i threw some shit in the tags and here we are, almost 4000 words later.
> 
> some day i'll write a serious story again.  
> today is not that day.

“Hey Yura, your boy’s here!”

Yuri looks up in the direction of Milla’s sing-song while wiping down the glass in his hand. She triumphantly gestures toward the door where a group of five college guys just walked in and sure enough, there he is among them, all leather-jacket-bound, muscle-built, stupid-undercut-hair-topped-beauty and everything. He looks like he smells good. Yuri bets he smells good.

Milla gives him a knowing smirk before grabbing her tray off the bar, “You know, I bet I could put in a good word for you. How long have you been lusting after him already? And you never do anything about it. What’s the point of working in a club if you can’t hit on your customers?!”

“Money’s a pretty good point. I like paying my bills, so,” Yuri doesn’t even have to look at her to know her eyeballs are rolling around her skull.

“Look babe, all I’m saying is that you never know unless you do something about this little crush of yours! He thinks you’re cute. Take advantage of it!”

Yuri nearly drops the rack of glasses he’d picked up while she was busy jabbering on, so he slams them on the counter in front of him before he does anything stupid. He turns on her, slapping his hands down on the bar, “NO HE DOESN’T.”

“Oh yes he does,” she counters, narrowing her eyes at him, “Haven’t you seen how he makes eyes at you all the time? Because I have.”

“Nobody is looking at anybody, Milla. That’s it.”

She huffs out a breath and Yuri hears her mutter a grumpy ‘if you say so’ under her breath as she turns on her heel to go serve the men. He watches her back as she goes and briefly flicks his eyes to the table. Curiously, the whole group seems to be looking at him. Well, all of them _except_ Undercut Boy. He seems to be very occupied by something on the screen of his cellphone. The guy sitting next to him wiggles his fingers in Yuri’s direction, and throws an elbow into his side. He whispers something to Undercut (whose face immediately blooms red) and throws his head back in booming laughter just as Milla gets to their table. Yuri immediately decides he does not like him. Laughing guy says something to Milla, who glances back at Yuri before laughing and nodding her head. Yeah, Yuri already hates that douche.

 

+++

 

That douche turns out to be named Jean-Jacques, “BUT YOU CAN CALL ME JJ FOR SHORT, MON CHATON!”

Yuri finds this out because thirty minutes after the group of guys arrive at the bar, JJ approaches him with a shouted introduction at the counter. Upon closer inspection, Yuri finds he has an undercut too. It looks stupid. Yuri hates it.

Sighing, Yuri grabs a glass and turns to him, “What can I get you?”

“I’ll take a PBR and your phone number, mon petite ange.”

“You’ve already had enough to drink if you honestly think I’m going to entertain any of the words that just came outta your mouth.”

JJ at least has the decency to look properly scolded before shrugging and saying, “Just the beer, then. Besides, I’m not the one you should be after anyway!”

Before Yuri can say anything, JJ throws himself back in the direction of the table his group is at, just in time for Milla to come back to the bar.

“I heard a rumor!”

It’s only eight o’clock. Yuri doesn’t clock out until one in the morning. He screws his eyes shut, wondering what he ever did to deserve the headache he can feel building just behind his retinas.

“And what, pray tell, have you heard?” Yuri asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Wellll, a certain gorgeous muscle god that just so happens to attend this fine establishment every so often seems to have a crush on someone. And it’s really interesting, because I know you’ve noticed that he comes here. But have you ever noticed his drinking habits?”

He nods. He can’t even be annoyed at her for the way she’s speaking to him like she knows some great life secret, because he definitely has noticed. See, Yuri’s been watching this guy for a while. No, that’s an understatement. He’s been _thirsting heavily_ after this guy for at least a year now. So when she asks about his drinking habits, Yuri already knows what she means. The guy doesn’t really have drinking habits. He’ll come in with his friends, spend hours here with them, but only drink one or two drinks the entire time. His friends are decidedly more liberal with their imbibing, to say the least.

Milla knows she’s got him if the look she gives him is any indication. She grins at him imperiously before leaning in and whispering conspiratorially, “I found out why.”

That doesn’t even reference anything. It makes no sense to him. And when did she have the time to find anything out about the guy? What has she been doing? He ignores all of these questions to voice his most pressing concern, “Why what?”

“Why he barely drinks when he comes here!”

“I figured he just wasn’t a big drinker.”

“Yuri Plisetsky, I know you are not that stupid. Have you seen the guys he hangs out with?! C’mon now!”

At that moment, one of Milla’s tables calls for her, so she scurries off to wait on them. When she returns to the bar, he’s chatting with a woman sitting at the end about their families, so she patiently waits for him to finish. When he turns to her, she picks right up as if they didn’t just take a ten minute break from their conversation.

“ANYWAY, dude’s in college and he looks like _that_. Of course he’s a big drinker. The thing is, he’s not a big drinker when he comes _here_ ,” she finishes her sentence with raised brows, “And can you guess why?”

Yuri flicks his eyes over to the man in question and finds himself looking directly into his gaze. He reddens again and quickly turns back to his friends.

“I’m beginning to.”

 

+++

 

Okay, Yuri doesn’t consider himself to be a sneaky kind of guy. He’s impatient, a little brash, and definitely quick to unleash his salty mouth on anyone who crosses him, but he’s honest. If there’s something he’s thinking, he’ll say it. If there’s something he wants, he’ll go after it. He won’t pussyfoot around how he’s feeling, he’ll face it head-on and handle his business.

Except, tonight, he kind of wants to run a little experiment. You know, for science. If this guy won’t nut up and come to Yuri on his own, then maybe he just needs a little grease in his proverbial wheels? So he waits. The evening rush is coming up at about nine, and it’ll be a perfect time to make his move. In the meantime, he’ll just do his job and bide his time.

Over the next twenty minutes, Yuri serves customers, cracks jokes with his coworkers, and occasionally makes eye contact with the shy, gorgeous man across the room. When he does, he’ll crack a quick smile or nod his head just a bit, but he won’t linger. This guy is going to come to him.

Nine o’clock rolls around, and Yuri walks the length of the packed counter. He finds a target and puts his plan into action.

“You,” he snaps his fingers and points at a lonely guy sitting in front of him, “drinks on me if you can do me a favor.”

The guy agrees without missing a beat, and Yuri sets two vodka tonics down in front of him.

“One is for you and one is for him,” he points over at Undercut, “but just tell him it’s from the guy at the bar.”

Yuri sets back to work, but watches from the corner of his eye as the guy goes and drops the drink off with Undercut. He looks a little surprised to be receiving the glass, and his friends hoot and holler while Yuri’s delivery boy gestures vaguely back at the bar. Yuri turns to another customer and acts natural, but he can’t quite tear his full attention away while the two chat for another second and the guy makes his way back to his seat. Yuri serves a couple of girls before approaching him.

“His name’s Otabek.”

“Huh?”

“Your boyfriend. He said his name’s Otabek. Don’t worry though, he doesn’t know you’re the guy at the bar.”

Yuri sets a new drink down in front of him and looks up to see ~~Underc~~ Otabek draining the glass.

“Thank you for your help.”

“For free drinks? Anytime.”

 

+++

 

Yuri decides to send the next drink fifteen minutes later. This time, he makes it a little heavier on the vodka. If there’s anything Yuri can admit about himself, it’s the fact that he really does love to stir shit when he can. Anyway, his impatience is sort of forcing his hand in moving this thing along.

He grabs Milla’s attention and fills her in on his plan.

“YURA,” she squeals, “I didn’t think you had it in you! I’m telling the other girls and making them help.”

He should have known better than to go straight to her, but he’s already fully committed to this, so, “What the hell, okay. Just don’t let anyone be obvious about it.”

When his new drink runner drops off the glass (this time with a wink and flourish, much to Yuri’s petty delight and paranoid frustration), Otabek winces a little bit and looks just the tiniest bit nervous. A few of his friends clap him on the back and make their way out to the dance floor, where the music has turned up loud and people have congregated to work out their need to move. He watches Otabek glance around the room suspiciously and throw the drink back without even a wince.

Okay, then. The experimental process demands that you adjust an individual parameter as you go along to ensure you are getting the truest result possible. This means, strictly speaking, that if Yuri wants to find the absolute purest outcome, then he has to up the ante. The third drink gets just a little more vodka.

At this point, Yuri knows he’s playing with fire. It’s not very smart to not only a) send a stranger increasingly potent drinks, but also b) not let that stranger know who’s sending them, and c) do it while on the clock as the bartender. He just can’t help it, though. He watches the liquor do its work, with Otabek’s shoulders loosening up and his demeanor becoming more open, and he can’t help but think that even if it doesn’t go his way, at least he gets to watch this transformation happen.

Yuri continues along with his work, serving requests and filling drink orders the waitresses drop off, and the next time he looks up, Otabek is nowhere to be found. He curses himself, hoping that he hasn’t already left, taking Yuri’s brilliant plan with him. When he turns his head toward the dance floor, though, he lets out a snort and quickly abandons the rag he’s wiping the counter with. There, right in the middle, is Otabek. Dancing with his friends.

Yuri has watched this guy for a long time. He knows the way he and all of his friends behave when they come to this club. Their ritual is pretty set: they show up, Otabek’s friends get shitfaced, Otabek drinks a single beer (two if it’s a wild day), his buddies go grind with some random guys and girls, Otabek watches the table, the night winds down, Otabek scrapes his friends together, and they all leave. Rinse and repeat.

To say that watching Otabek dance is a surprise would be a complete understatement. It’s poetry. It’s a gift. It’s a blessing crafted by the universe itself. His body moves smooth as thunder and strong as the sea, working itself perfectly along to the tune of the music. If Yuri didn’t know any better, he would say that the man was born from music, that’s how deeply he seems to feel and express it.

Yuri must have gotten way more caught up in watching than he thought because in a blink, Otabek’s sight focuses on Yuri and he’s making his way across the room to the bar. shit. Shit. SHIT. Yuri isn’t ready. He was hoping to get another drink deep _at least_ before he had to make any solid decisions.

There’s no time to whip something up though, because in the time it took Yuri to have his mini-meltdown, Otabek has reached him at the bar.

“Good evening.”

Holy fuck. His voice is a revelation. It’s like the gods drew together their powers one day and decided to create a gift, boil it into speech, and bless it to a single man every generation, and here's that man. In front of Yuri. Just saying things.

Otabek tilts his head a little bit, which does just enough to snap Yuri out of his pants-shitting feelings over the magic his vocal chords can work. Yuri clears his throat to buy another fraction of a second, “Hello.”

Otabek smiles, but it’s a fleeting little thing. There are no teeth, but the corners of his mouth flick up just so and his eyes shine just a little bit. He leans across the counter.

“I have a question for you.”

Yuri can smell the booze on him, but he knows it’s not enough to get a guy his size drunk, maybe just a bit buzzed. This should be good. He allows himself to relax and drops right in to banter mode.

“Well, then I have an answer for you.”

“Good. Who’s been sending me drinks all night?”

Yuri fights to keep his face neutral.

“Ah, unfortunately enough, that’s the one question I just can’t answer,” he leans forward with his hands palm down on the edge of the bar so that they’re separated by just inches, “Bartender patient confidentiality, you see. You understand, don’t you?”

Otabek huffs out a laugh and sits down on a stool, “Yeah, I guess I can. Could you do me a favor, then, and make me another one?”

Yuri smiles at him and grabs a glass. He doesn’t miss the way Otabek tracks his movements as he pours. When he slides the glass over (for the sake of extending his experiment, he uses the same amount of vodka as the last drink), Otabek gives him a genuine smile.

“Thank you…I’m so sorry, what’s your name?”

“Yuri.”

“Yuri. That’s a beautiful name. It suits you. It’s nice to meet you, Yuri. I’m Otabek.”

“A-ah, yes. Nice to meet you, Otabek.”

No sooner does the name leave his mouth than he spots another one of Otabek’s friends approaching the counter. He slings an arm around the man’s shoulder, shouting, “There you are, Beks! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Otabek opens his mouth, but his friend turns to Yuri and gasps, “YOU. HELLO, YOU. OTABE-“

He yelps as Otabek drives his elbow into his side and interrupts, “Leo! Hello. This is Yuri. Yuri, this is my buddy Leo.”

With another point of data to add to his list of results, Yuri smirks and holds out his hand, “Hello, Leo. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You are so pretty up close!” Leo says, taking his hand.

Yuri makes direct eye contact with Otabek, who looks ready to die and throws his drink back, “So I’ve been told.”

“Anyway, it’s been nice to have this chat, but I’ve been sent to retrieve Otabek for more dancing!”

“Please, don’t let me hold you back from your mission,” Yuri gestures to the dancefloor, “Enjoy, boys.”

Leo drags Otabek back to the pulsing lights by the wrist, but Otabek’s eyes never leave Yuri until the crowd swallows him whole.

 

+++

 

Yuri is nearing the end of his shift when Otabek comes back to the bar. He pours one more drink and passes it over.

“Well, hello again _Beks_.”

Otabek groans and rolls his eyes, “Please. Only the guys call me that.”

“What would you have me call you, then? Just Otabek?”

“You can call me Beka. If you’d like.”

Yuri smiles and tests the name on his tongue, “Beka, huh? Beka.”

He doesn’t even get an answer. Otabek just closes his eyes and nods, satisfied.

“Well Beka, it’s been very nice to see you this evening, but my shift is ending, so I’m gonna have to pass you off to the closers.”

“Please don’t.”

Otabek’s eyes shoot open and Yuri feels them bore straight into his soul. This, of course, was the goal. The problem here is that Yuri doesn’t know how to react knowing that his goal has been met. Does he celebrate? Play it cool? He’s never been quite this effective at running game before, so it’s kind of a wild feeling. Well, if there’s one thing Yuri has learned from this job, it’s how to flirt his ass off.

“What do you suggest I do, Otabek? I do need to go home at some point.”

“You do, but,” Otabek’s eyes slide down to focus on his mouth for a second before he looks back up, “I’d like to see you for a little longer. If that’s okay with you, that is.”

Yuri breathes out and runs his hands through his ponytail.

“Okay, how about this: I’ll cash out and have a drink with you. Does that work?”

The relief hits Otabek’s face and tinges his voice, “That would be perfect.”

“Okay, then.”

Yuri grabs one of the closers, counts out his register, and grabs two beers. He walks around the counter, grabs Otabek’s hand, and drags him out to the dance floor.

“I know you can’t really talk on a dance floor, but I saw you dancing earlier, and I have to take advantage of that for at least a little bit.”

Otabek blushes again, and if Yuri weren’t so determined to get down to business, he’d stop to admire it up close. As it is, he has an experiment to finish, so he throws his hands over Otabek’s broad shoulders and starts to move. A beat doesn’t even skip by before Otabek’s hands land on his hips and he pulls him close, moving their hips in tandem. They stay like that for some time, Yuri occasionally spinning out of Otabek’s orbit, but always finding his way back, until both of their drinks are empty and Yuri is exhausted. Yuri opens his mouth to let him know he’s spent, but Otabek cuts him off before he can get the words out.

“Yuri, I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

Yuri really wants to say yes. Like, he really _really_ wants to say yes. He’s the one who made Otabek’s drinks, though. He had a goal, but he’s also not a dick.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Otabek. You’re pretty drunk. I would know, I sent you a lot of alcohol tonight.”

Otabek stops for just a second and then bursts into laughter.

“I knew it! I thought I was imagining it when I caught you looking at me all those times, but then the drinks started happening, and it seemed a little convenient.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m shifty like that.”

“Can I have your number then?”

“Now that I can do,” Yuri says, dragging Otabek back to the bar. He scribbles his number on a cocktail napkin and shoves it in Otabek’s front pocket. “Text me when you sober up and we’ll hang out sometime.”

 

+++

 

After he gets home, Yuri gets a text message from Milla: **_ur boytoy left his jacket at the club_** _._

Yuri snorts at his screen and answers:  ** _well i guess i’ll have to give it back to him when we hang out_** _,_ then heads into his bathroom to brush his teeth. When he comes back to climb in bed, the answer is short and sweet: **_OMG YURA!!!_**

 

+++

 

Three days go by and Yuri doesn’t hear from him. Not a text, not a call, he hasn’t even come back to the club for his jacket. Yuri stares at it in the lost and found every day, just mocking him. It’s such a sucky situation that Milla doesn’t even tease him about it.

On day four, Yuri is wiping down the bar and getting ready for opening when there’s a knock on the front door. He goes to answer it and is greeted by the face of his personal half-week nightmare. He does his best to school his expression as he unlocks the door and lets him into the lobby.

“How can I help you,” he deadpans as best as he can without throwing a fit.

Otabek flushes and looks at the floor, “I uh-hi. I think I might have left my jacket here a few days ago. I was hoping you might have it?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Yuri whips around and grabs the coat out of the bin behind the bar, returning to the lobby and thrusting it toward the man’s chest. “Here, I think this one is yours.”

Otabek holds it up in front of himself before nodding.

“Yes, this is it. Thank you so much.”

He puts the coat on but doesn’t leave. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet a little bit, looking everywhere but Yuri’s face.

“Great. If you don’t mind,” Yuri gestures to the door, “I need to finish getting the bar open.”

“Oh! Of course, I’m so sorry.”

Otabek turns to go, but stops himself short. He turns back around and looks Yuri directly in the eye, marching forward. Yuri has to stop himself from taking a step back out of reflex when Otabek lifts his arm.

“I’m Otabek. I’ve been coming here with my friends for a while. I have a huge thing for you. I’d like to take you out.”

Yuri stares at his hand, then bounces his eyes up to his face (he looks incredibly nervous, and if Yuri was just a little bit less pissed off, he would truly enjoy it), then drops his eyes back down to his outstretched hand.

“I know. I gave you my number the night you left your jacket.”

Otabek’s face pales. Yuri is pleased.

“I-uh,” Otabek clears his throat, “I had kind of a lot to drink. I don’t remember much about that night.”

Yuri’s whole body shuts down and resets itself. He’s heard about karma. He knows he’s done some dumb bullshit in his life. He supposes if he were to stop and think about it, this is his comeuppance for not just introducing himself in the first place and instead running some dumbass drinking game with this dumbass guy.

He bursts out laughing. Otabek blushes.

“This,“ Yuri hiccups, “this is so good! Oh my god. This is all my fault.”

Otabek looks extremely confused, “I really don’t understand what’s happening.”

Yuri straightens up and grabs his hand, “Hello, I’m Yuri. I’m the reason you forgot an entire night. I can explain over the cup of coffee we’re about to grab. Let’s go.”

**Author's Note:**

> big ups to yuri for not making out with a sloppy drunk.
> 
> as per usual, you can find me on [tumblr](https://tootsonnewts.tumblr.com) & [twitter](https://twitter.com/these_mortals)
> 
> come say hello and talk to me about your favorite animals!


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